


sixth sense

by louieezus



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, M/M, Oneshot, drama teacher louis/single dad harry, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of smut, niall and liam are mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 15:51:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3494051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louieezus/pseuds/louieezus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis teaches drama to four-year-olds and is definitely a little too interested in one girl's dad...</p>
            </blockquote>





	sixth sense

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the worst summary in the history of summaries ever
> 
> i did a bit of smut omg kill me i'm sorry
> 
> i felt like doing something a little bit different, i hope you like it :)

When Louis’ obnoxiously loud alarm woke him up that Saturday morning, the last thing he wanted was to spend the next hour with a dozen four-year olds. He groaned and rolled out of bed, snatching a t-shirt from the chair and stumbling into the kitchen.

“I can’t do it,” He whined to his roommate, “I can’t do it today, Z.”

“Yeah, well,” Zayn slid a bowl across the counter to Louis, “I told you it probably wasn’t a good idea to go out partying when you have a class the next morning.”

Louis slumped forward on the counter and sighed. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his job, he did, but he reasoned that not many people would enjoy teaching drama to very young children whilst your head feels like it’s going to explode.

“I’m going to die.” He stated.

“Eat, Lou,” Zayn ordered, “and drink lots of water. And take a fucking painkiller.”

“Yeah, thanks mate,” Louis replied sarcastically, throwing back a pill, “would never have thought of that.”

“Don’t be a dick just because you feel like one. Speaking of dick…” Zayn raised his eyebrows and leaned forwards on the counter.

“Z, do you really think I’d have slept here last night if I’d got any?” Louis replied, shoveling down some disgusting cereal that he’d bought for his sisters if they ever came to stay.

“Alright, alright,” Zayn held up his hands in surrender and backed into his room, “I was just wondering.”

After attempting to make his face and hair look like he hadn’t just been dragged through a hedge, and throwing on a pair of jeans and Vans, Louis slipped out the door and into his car. He cringed at the loud music which blared from the speakers when he started the engine, and fiddled with the volume knob.

Louis silently thanked every god he didn’t believe in that the traffic wasn’t as bad as usual, because he was already running late. He arrived at the little studio about two minutes before the first student: a little boy who hadn’t let go of his mother’s hand on the first day and had cried his eyes out when she tried to leave. Today he ran into the studio shouting, “Louis!”

As soon as Louis had managed to get all the children as settled as he ever would, a flustered man came rushing in, holding his young daughter’s hand. Louis began to sigh at the interruption, but the wind was knocked out of him when the man looked up. He was drop-dead stunning; you could easily have mistaken him for the front man of an indie band. His overgrown brown hair fell messily around his tanned face and down to his sculpted collar bones. His green eyes looked a little tired, but no less gorgeous, and his plump lips hung slightly open. From under his t-shirt poked out a slender, tattoo-littered arm which seemed to stretch out for days until it reached the large hand that engulfed the young girl’s.

Louis’ mouth fell wide open and he was visibly gawking when the other man cleared his throat and shook his head, “Uh, sorry if we’re late. Traffic’s awful.”

Louis blinked furiously and coughed, “Oh, um, right…that’s ok. What’s your - her name?” He corrected himself.

“This is Darcey. Darcey Styles.” He rubbed his daughter’s back.

“Oh, ok, yeah,” Louis checked his book, “just starting today. Hey, do you wanna come over here, Darcey? We’ll get you introduced to everyone.”

She hesitated and looked to the man, whom Louis assumed was her father, for guidance. He smiled and nodded, and she came running over to join the group. As she came closer, Louis saw that her green eyes looked exactly like her father’s. He sighed; this was going to be a long lesson.

 

As Louis was clearing away after the lesson, he heard and awkward cough and whipped around to see the man from earlier standing right in front of him.

“Hi, Louis is it?” His deep voice asked.

Louis nodded lamely and the curly-headed man replied, “I’m Harry. I just wanted to say thank you. Darcey said she had a wonderful time and she’s made lots of new friends already.”

Louis hadn’t really taken in any of what Harry had just said; he was lost somewhere in a river of the molten-gold in his voice. Louis inwardly shook himself: he needed to man up and be his normal confident self, “That’s ok, I’m glad she enjoyed herself. Harry Styles, eh? What are you, an indie rock star?”

Harry laughed (it was beautiful, Louis noted), “No, I’m just a baker. And a dad, first and foremost.”

Louis smiled at the thought of Harry in an apron and a funny hat. He had barely spent five minutes with this guy and already he liked him a lot more than he cared to admit. The man had a _child_ and it didn’t bother Louis in the slightest. Maybe that should’ve worried him, but somehow it didn’t.

 

It was Darcey’s third week at Louis’ classes, after he had established that he was almost definitely at least bisexual, when he asked Harry out.

“Harold, you up for dinner next Saturday?” He asked confidently. Well, he was confident outwardly even if he wasn’t on the inside.

“I’m not sure that’s the way to ask a gentleman out, Louis.” Harry replied pompously.

Louis narrowed his eyes, “Good thing you’re not a gentleman, then.”

Harry gasped dramatically, “Just for that I should say no! So I’m going to ask you to my place instead. I am an excellent chef, after all.”

“Hmm, alright. But next time it’s my turn.”

Harry let an excited smile slip, “Next time? Let’s just take it one step at a time, Lou. Oh, I just remembered I don’t have anyone to look after Darcey! Niall and Li are away.”

“Harry, we’re going to be at your house, why do you need someone to look after - oh…” Louis blushed slightly (something which was completely out of character for him) when he realised what Harry was implying.

Harry smirked, “I mean, you’re right. I suppose she can just stay -”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got someone.” Louis blurted.

 

“Please, Zayn! Just this one thing! I’m on my knees.” Louis begged.

“No you’re not.” Zayn pointed out, “And what do you mean ‘just this one thing’? I do everything for you! I get your laundry done, I take you home when you’re too drunk, I cook…sometimes.”

“Okay, okay, but come on, Z! You know as well as I do that I haven’t got laid for months. I might be a bit less grumpy…” Louis reasoned.

“Go out to a fucking club if you wanna get laid, Lou! Don’t go to dinner with a man who has a four-year-old!”

“Well, maybe I really like this guy, and his four-year-old. Maybe we get along really well and maybe I want him to cook me a meal and then kiss me until my lips are sore!” Louis shouted.

“Woah, okay, okay. So, you really like him, huh? Alright, but just this one time!” Zayn agreed.

Louis flung his arms around his best friend, “Thank you thank you thank you! Love you, bro.”

 

Zayn drove Louis to Harry’s place, a small terraced house in Croydon, the next Saturday. After a rushed handing over of Darcey to Zayn, and Louis promising his friend was trustworthy, Harry ordered Louis back out of the door.

“I want to do this properly!” He explained, before promptly shutting the door in Louis’ face.

Louis sighed and rang the doorbell.

“Just a minute!” He heard from inside. He laughed a little at how utterly dorky Harry was.

The door flew open, “Ah, Louis! Don’t you look dashing this evening.”

Louis was wearing the same jeans as he wore most days, but with dress shoes, a white button-up shirt and a black blazer. He had thought he looked rather good himself, but when he looked at Harry, he felt embarrassingly overshadowed. Harry was wearing a similar thing to himself, but without the blazer and with his patterned shirt undone to his abdomen, exposing his tanned chest. He looked even more stunning than usual.

“I could say the same about you, Styles. I’d better come in before you catch a cold.” Louis stepped in for the second time.

“See, that was fun! Now it feels like a proper date.” Harry smiled and closed the door.

Louis flushed slightly, but blamed it on the cold, “Not to add to that, but I, uh, I brought flowers.” He whipped out a bouquet of tulips.

“Oh, aren’t you cute. I love flowers.” Harry accepted the bouquet and ushered Louis into the kitchen, where he got out a vase and set up his flowers.

“I had a feeling you might.” Louis smiled.

“So does Darcey,” Harry continued to busy himself with cooking, “by the way, thanks for getting Zayn to help out with that. I know you’re great with her and everything, but it might have killed the mood a little.”

“Yeah, but don’t go getting any ideas Harold, I’m not one to fuck on the first date.” Louis warned, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Ugh, don’t call it that. It’s so vulgar.” Harry replied.

“What do you suggest I call it then, O Holy One?” Louis asked, bemused.

“Making love.” Harry said indignantly.

“Making love! What Harry answer, that’s cute.” Louis laughed.

“It’s not cute, that’s what it is! Or that’s what it should be anyway.” Harry mumbled.

“Aw, sweetie.” Louis stroked Harry’s chin.

“Yeah, alright.” Harry flicked Louis in the tummy with his tea towel. Louis yelped.

“What’s the story with you and Darcey, anyway?” Louis asked, genuine curiosity getting the better of him.

“Tried to convince myself that I was straight when I was in sixth form, or maybe I was experimenting…I don’t know. It was a one night stand with a girl from my school that I barely knew. I found out two weeks later that she was pregnant. She told me she was going to get rid of it and that she wasn’t ready to be a mum. I got it, she was seventeen, but I was ready to be a dad - as soon as I had the chance, I wanted it. I begged her to keep it, told her she wouldn’t have to have anything to do with the kid, but I asked her to please just keep it. It was a big ask, and it was probably quite selfish, but she did it.”

“That’s not selfish Harry,” Louis looked him in the eyes, “you wanted to take care of another life at, what, eighteen? That’s amazing, and you’ve done so well.”

“Stop,” Harry glowed, “you’re making me blush. Doesn’t it bother you that I have a kid?”

“Harry, I’m twenty four, it’s not like I’m a child myself anymore. Yeah, a family used to sound scary, but now…it kinda sounds wonderful. Besides, I like you for you, Darcey’s just an added bonus.”

For once, Harry was speechless.

“So,” Louis cleared his throat, “what’s for dinner, Chef Styles?”

“That’s Sir Chef Styles, to you. It’s a beautiful Jamie Oliver invention: chicken, stuffed with mozzarella, wrapped in parma ham.” Harry explained, whilst Louis gesticulated wildly.

“Sounds lovely.”

“It is.” Harry agreed, “Oh, it also comes with mash.”

“Oh, man, I haven’t had mash for _years.”_   Louis exclaimed.

Harry hummed, “And it isn’t just any mash. It’s homemade mash.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from Sir Chef Styles.” Louis winked.

“Sit down, Lou, it’s ready.” Harry commanded, getting some plates out from the cupboard.

“Okay, can I -” Louis tried to help.

“I said sit down!” Harry repeated.

Louis threw up his hands in surrender and sat down at the table, “Aw, a candle!”

Harry rolled his eyes and presented his date with his food, “Bon appetit.”

“Wow, I’m impressed.” Louis nodded approvingly.

Harry took a little bow before sitting opposite Louis and gesturing for him to begin.

“Harold, that was delicious.” Louis uttered after a few minutes of companionable silence as they ate.

“I _told_ you I could cook!” Harry grinned.

“No need to get cocky about it.” Louis warned.

“Speaking of cocky -”

“What’s for dessert?” Louis interrupted, smirking.

Harry rolled his eyes again, “What would you like?”

“You.” Louis deadpanned.

Harry laughed, “Smooth, Louis, very smooth.”

Louis laced his fingers with Harry’s across the table, “That’s my middle name.”

“Hmm, I thought you didn’t fuck on the first date?” Harry pondered.

“Who said anything about fucking? I’m nothing if not creative.” Louis responded cheekily.

Harry hesitated for a moment, “There’s something I want to show you first.”

Louis sighed dramatically, “It had better be good.”

“It will be.” Harry grabbed the bottle of wine and lead Louis upstairs, their hands still intertwined. They entered a room which Louis quickly made out to be Harry’s bedroom.

“Uh, is this your room?” Louis asked, puzzled.

“It is.” Harry confirmed. He strode over to the large window situated above the side of his double bed and pulled it wide open, before climbing through it clumsily and sitting on the low roof outside. He ushered Louis over, and he came cautiously.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” Harry held out his hand.

Louis took it and reluctantly climbed through, banging his head slightly on the pane. He sat down next to Harry on the roof and stretched out his legs.

“If you think I’m going to give you my jacket, you’re wrong. I’ll be bloody freezing!” Louis told him.

Harry laughed and interlocked their hands once again, “I’ll be fine.”

Louis rested on his other hand and enjoyed the feeling of Harry’s heat travelling through him from his fingers. Harry’s view wasn’t exactly amazing; just the tops of the houses opposite and a few trees, but Louis was more caught up with a different view. The sharpness of Harry’s jawline, the fullness of his lips, and the way his brow was creased with concentration. He was more beautiful than any other view Louis could imagine.

Louis shook himself, “So, what exactly are we doing?”

Harry smiled knowingly and rested his head on Louis‘ shoulder, “You’ll see.”

Louis smiled down at Harry’s curly hair, and when he looked back out, his breath was taken away. All of a sudden, the setting sun had slipped to level of the rooftops and was casting golden rays across the sky. The sky itself had turned a pinky-lilac and seemed bigger than ever before.

“It’s beautiful, Harry.” Louis breathed.

Harry lifted his head off Louis’ shoulder and turned to face him, “You’re beautiful.” He replied.

Sighing not only at how lovely Harry’s eyes looked, but also at how utterly cheesy this was, Louis grabbed the back of Harry’s neck and gently pulled him forwards as he leaned. Harry went easily. Louis had never understood the big deal with kissing, but at that moment he had goosebumps, and not from the cold. Harry’s arms wrapped around Louis’ waist, and he felt like he belonged. The kiss turned sharply from languid and slow to heated and passionate. Louis’ hands slipped from Harry’s hair to his partially bare chest and Harry shivered at Louis’ cold touch.

Harry broke away slightly and whispered, “Let’s go inside.”

“You not letting your exhibitionist side out today?” Louis teased as he scrambled back through the window and fell onto the bed.

“Shut up, ice queen.” Harry ripped off Louis’ jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Louis began doing the same on Harry, but couldn’t help laughing when he saw his chest exposed, “Of course you have a tattoo of a butterfly on your chest.”

“Tell me you don’t want to come on the butterfly.” Harry replied with a smirk.

Louis gulped, “That would be a lie.”

“Fuck me.” Harry groaned.

“Don’t you mean ‘make love to me’?” Louis mocked whilst fiddling with Harry’s zipper (a difficult task considering how tight Harry’s jeans were _before_ this all started).

“Fuck. Me.” Harry growled.

“Uh-uh,” Louis managed as Harry clawed up his arms, “first date, remember.”

“Lou,” He whined, “please just -”

Harry’s complaints were cut short when Louis wrapped his hand around Harry’s cock. Harry shuddered and gasped.

“Have I got your attention yet?” Louis asked faux-sweetly.

Harry just nodded, his mouth hanging open as Louis licked over his slit before taking him into his mouth. Louis hadn’t always been the biggest fan of giving head, but with Harry making noises like he was, he didn’t mind at all. He bobbed up and down, with his hand still resting on the base, before focusing his attention on the head. All too soon, he was pulling off, leaving Harry confused.

“Lou, if you want I can -”

Louis interrupted Harry’s comments again, but this time by swiping his tongue over Harry’s hole.

“Oh…my…god,” Harry moaned.

This only spurred Louis on as he swirled the tip of his tongue around Harry’s rim, stretching the muscle a little. He paused for Harry’s consent, which was given in the form of another moan. Louis continued to wiggle his tongue further, and then added a finger in alongside it. By this point, Harry was a whimpering mess above him, shouting out for God and more and _Louis_.

Louis stopped suddenly, and clambered up, kissing Harry roughly, knowing that he could taste himself on Louis’ tongue.

“Wanna come together. Wanna come on that fucking tattoo.” Louis muttered, stripping himself of his painfully tight underwear.

“Let me do it, babe,” Harry replied, having recovered a little. He pulled Louis onto his lap and put both of their cocks together, smearing precome as lube. Louis gasped at the contact he had been waiting so long for, and when Harry started moving his hand, Louis bit into Harry’s shoulder and dug his fingernails into his back. Harry quickly picked up speed, and soon he was coming with Louis’ name on his lips. He kept stroking through, taking Louis over the edge straight after. He screamed Harry’s name in a whisper and he swore he saw stars as he blacked out.

He collapsed on Harry’s chest, both of them puffing and panting. He was leaning up and kissing Harry’s jaw when he noticed the white ribbons on his tattoo. He smirked and licked some up off his chest, delighted to have achieved his goal.

“Disgusting,” Harry scoffed.

“Hardly, you’re definitely into that.” Louis laughed, “I knew you’d be loud.”

“Oh, you have some kind of sixth sense, do you?” Harry looked down at Louis.

“Something like that.”

Harry went and fetched a warm cloth to clean them up, much to Louis’ dismay, before cuddling in again, back against Louis’ chest.

“You’re really going to be the little spoon? You’re about three feet taller than me, Haz.”

But Harry had already fallen asleep.

Louis kissed Harry’s hair, “Sweet dreams, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> wow i hope that wasn't too painful. 
> 
> this is just a 'bit on the side', i am currently working on a multi-chaptered fic called 'since you were eighteen'. if by some miracle you want to see more of my writing you could give that a go.
> 
> tumblr: louieezus
> 
> if you wanna leave comments or kudos that would make me v v happy thank you bye xoxo


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